


Shrine Bright Circus Man

by Totally_Not_An_Awkward_Okapi



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, I swear if Jester is just trying to make me suspicious every time she says molly was a god, I wonder what Molly’s cult thinks of this., Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_Not_An_Awkward_Okapi/pseuds/Totally_Not_An_Awkward_Okapi
Summary: When exactly this new god of the twilight domain came about is mystery. But their devotion coming in brightening up towns and living life to its fullest let it spread quickly. So their shrines are not an uncommon sight.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Shrine Bright Circus Man

A small halfling cleric gives a short bow before entering this home of her god.

The shrine is small. Built just along the well traveled forest road, into the cliffs on one side. It is wooden, with a bit of stone and tile holding together it’s base. The maker was not the sort who stayed and built things often, but this one seems to have lasted. At best a single, small traveler might be able to sit inside out of the rain. So the halfling thanks their god once again. Luck is always on their side. Or never on their side. But it is never adverse. Despite all these factors, it isn’t an ugly sight. The stones have been carved and painted by many hands, the wood much the same. Means both plain and magical decorate it’s outside, sigils of protection woven into it all. The work of one hand becomes the work of many hands. And that makes the work light.

But it is far more beautiful inside. No need for back tracking to try and convince the observer. The rafters hold up the pale purple muslin, and what is definitely not muslin not purple. The walls covered with dyed and embroidered cotton, any moth eaten holes swiftly covered and making it look slightly like a crazy quilt. The floor has pillows ranging in quality covering the broken tiles of the floor. Blankets too, but those things are even less permanent than the rest of the shrine, meant to be taken on a cold day.

A dragonborn stumbles through the woods and towards the shrine. He hopes no one who knows him and knows how the shrine blasphemies The Platinum Dragon sees him. Perhaps the shrine will make it so?

The shrine is large. Built in a place that, with some squinting, one might think may have once been a well traveled road. It is a holy well, a barrow, and a grotto. None of these terms are entirely accurate, of course. The water at it’s center is not holy, and may not even be water, if it’s general color and the rumors are to be believed. It holds no dead to be called a barrow, despite being built like one. And nothing in it’s looks would make one think the word “grotto” unless they had very low standards. From the outside it looks like nothing more than a doorway into a small him with a willow tree growing from it. A willow that is never struck in storms, but a plain, old willow none the less. A stone mound with a sod roof and a tree growing through it. Well, it is used in the matter of sod, but the plants that grow around the shrine are not simple grass. Most would send a humanoid’s mind to other places, and those that don't will do much more. Even the inside is full of mushroom of a similar nature, feeding of the plants above. Paintings, bundles of dried herbs, talismans, charms, and even just plain jewelry hang from the larger roots as they fight to fill the well this shrine was built around.

Both's have low shelves, of wood and stone, and are covered in gifts, offerings, and things for the next traveler to take. Sticks of incense, some warm and filling it with haze without ever burning. Bags of dried plants, strong sents coming off them, mostly of lavender. Tea sets, bits of tea sets, and even just plain bags of tea dot the shelves, porcelain, metal, and wood mostly. Card decks of various games. Dice of various shapes and purposes. Knives, swords, and general blades weapons small enough for their shrine. Gemstones, loose, refined, in jewelry and still in their rocks. Plain rocks that simply look nice. Pendulums filling it with a steady click, always ready for a performance. Candles of all sorts, some floating in the well. Glassworks, all magical in a way. Several bottles of varying liquors. Bobbles of all sorts. Hanging from the shelves are even more tokens, fabrics, and bits of metalwork.

But all of it comes in twos. Gold and silver, blue and red, sun and moon. 

In the center, weather embedded into the willow’s trunk or sitting on a simple stone, a small statue stands. The gift which surround and hang from it are all mixed metals, purples colors, depicting dusk and eclipses. Despite the eccentric nature of the shrine, the gifts here are neat, forming circles around the statues base and neatly hanging down. Taking anything before the statue is supposed to grant one a good trip. Something which the halfling tries and the dragonborn tries to push out of his mind. Both notice the symmetry of these places. The mirroring. These realizations dawning as they both look at the statue itself.

The statue is handsome and scarred. Soft curling hair and fine makeup played agains scars and slight blood dripping from it’s grinding mouth. A god spits in the face of death after all. The statue is devilish and divine. Well, visually devilish and divine in something only one of them understands. So clearly mortal and so clearly undying. It is empty and it is full. It is two equally halved glasses. It is a birth. It is a life spent searching for Godhood, for an eternal life. It is a death. It is a rebirth. It is a life spent playing with death, spent drinking in every moment. It is a death. It is a stop and a start.

It is a circle. It is twilight. It is purple.

**Author's Note:**

> Homebrewed the concept with a guy in a YouTube comment section and did this when I remembered I couldn’t draw environments.


End file.
